


the stars crossed when they first said hello

by derekmorqan



Series: we were crafted from ocean waves and starlight [1]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:48:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26809876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derekmorqan/pseuds/derekmorqan
Summary: "However, the new guy is staring at him, head cocked and long hair dangling over the one side of his shoulder. That's one word that just aptly describes this new guy who ruined one of his first days back to Northwestern University varsity football: Long."Or. The BAU attends Northwestern University and grow into themselves.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Haley Hotchner, Beth Clemmons/Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi/Various Sorority Girls, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/William LaMontagne Jr.
Series: we were crafted from ocean waves and starlight [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955383
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	the stars crossed when they first said hello

**Author's Note:**

> as of right now i plan for this to be a series of one shots that span their lives at college. i'm really hoping this pans out!
> 
> you can thank gentlewhumping for helping me with this and check out their works!

> \- The stars crossed when they first said hello. - Analog de Lēon

He can’t get his head in the game. Fumble after fumble has his coach on his ass; ready to send him to the sidelines to run suicides until his legs give out. It’s been a miserable practice, with the vets trying to see how the rookies merge with their playing style and team dynamic, paired with an even more miserable August day, causing the humidity to settle under pads and helmets.

He shrugs the ever-growing knot out of his shoulders and tries to brush himself out of the slump he’s been temporarily forced into, before lining back up behind the quarterback. He exhales and waits for the quarterback to call the play. And then he sees him again out of the corner of his eye, completely against his will.

The new guy looks completely out of place in his practice uniform; all long gangly legs and spindly arms crossing an equally bony chest. He has no idea why he’s there, most of the other guy cheerleaders are there to act as bases and lift up the girls while they do their stunts during half-time shows and such. He figures the new guy won’t last a week before the cheer coach realizes his mistake and cuts him from the team. But until then, the new guy awkwardly stands on the opposite sidelines, holding himself, while a blonde girl sits on the turf below him and talks at him.

He hears the whistle blow twice and looks up at his coach marching over to them. Or, he belatedly realizes, his coach is marching over to him; beady set of eyes deadlocked on him with a precision he’s only ever seen right before he has to do something cruel and inhumane like run in this August heat. His team of traitors back away as Coach descends on him, singling him out and allowing their coach free rein to reach in and grab him by the collar of his uniform and yank him close.

“ _What_ is wrong with you today, Morgan?” Coach says, hand still resting on his collar. “You been fumbling my damn football all day, and now you’re looking off, getting all distracted, so… what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me, Coach. Just a bad day.” Derek mumbles, as the exhaustion settles in his bones and he can feel his pride being stripped away in front of his boys.

His coach _hmphs_ , still glaring at him over his sunglasses. “‘ _Bad day,’”_ He projects his voice, making sure the rest of the team can hear. “There are no bad days on _my_ varsity team, do you understand me?” He tightens his grip.

“Yes, Coach.” Derek agrees.

“Now I can’t rely on – and the team can’t rely on – a running back that gets distracted by every short cheerleading skirt that flounces on the sidelines when there’s a game on the line.” Coach lets go of him, never breaking eye contact. “Now, Morgan.”

“Yes, Coach?”

“How many feet are in a mile?”

Derek opens his mouth and falters and that gives Coach enough time to slap his helmet several times with the palm of his hand. “ _How many feet are in a mile, Morgan?”_

_“_ Five thousand, two hundred and eighty feet, Coach”

“And you’re going to pick up this ball,” he yells, “and you’re going to run every last one of them. And when you get back, you’ll keep your eyes in practice and you’re not going to _fumble_ my damn ball.”

Derek sighs. “Yes, Coach,” he says, before picking up his feet and jogging towards the sidelines. Practice continues behind him with a member of junior varsity subbing in while he suffers his fate. He doesn’t dare glance back until he’s safely at the sidelines counting down from five thousand. Derek notices that most of the cheerleaders have returned back to their stretches or whatever it is that cheerleaders do on the sidelines while they practice. However, the new guy is staring at him, head cocked and long hair dangling over the one side of his shoulder. That’s one word that just aptly describes this new guy who ruined one of his first days back to Northwestern University varsity football: Long.

Derek stares back as he jogs down the opposite side of the field, slightly confused, before the new guy unwraps the arm that was holding himself and gives him a slight unsure wave, which causes his friend, the blonde one, to swat him in the leg and thoroughly breaking their unholy matrimony of eye contact, as the new guy quickly looks down and softy kicks her with his sneaker in retaliation.

Derek quickly snaps his head back to the team, checking to see if he was caught by any of the players or by Coach. He relaxes as much as he can with about four thousand ‘steps’ left, confident that no one caught on to his impromptu staring match with the new cheerleader. He feels flush and he’s not sure he can blame the heat that's rising to his ears solely on the humidity of the August heat or the embarrassment of being called out in the middle of practice.

He assures himself that this new guy just isn’t going to make the final round of cheerleading cuts and that once he’s done with this draining mile, he’ll be able to go on continuing to prove to Coach that he’s deserving of his varsity spot, even though he’s a junior and made varsity last year. He’ll prove to Coach that he’s deserving, and he’ll help lead this team to the championship and then he’ll win it; he can envision it now: the crowd on the edge of their seats with the score neck and neck and the buzzer close to buzzing. And he’ll take that damn ball and he’ll run it right to the end zone and win. He’ll do a little dance - nothing too flashy that would embarrass his momma - and then he’ll celebrate with his team, while the crowd loses their mind in the stands. He’s going to get a big shiny championship ring to put on his finger and then he’ll go on to do it again next year.

He can see it as clear as crystal. And he’s not going to let any distractions come between him and that. _Yeah,_ he tries to assure himself, _that new guy will be gone soon._

**Author's Note:**

> i'm @doctorreidssa on twt and @peachfocus on tumblr!


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